:

his admiration excited at the sight of paintings and statuary, he is disgusted with the sounds of debauchery, and the cries of drunkenness. Indeed, the character of the Italian is truly diversified their superiority in music is contrasted with the dissonant cries of the debauchee, the effect of the skill and fine imagination of the painter, is destroyed by scenes from real life, which the traveller has every moment presented to his view. CRUSEAR.

THE FOREST GIRL.

A DRAMATIC SKETCH.

SeaN-The Palace of Powhattan-Pocahontas watching at the door-Powhat

Is fixed.

With savage skill, I'll torture him.

I'll teach the whites to fight, and bravely die,

Sooner than yield themselves an easy prey

To my control.-[Capt. Smith enters, conducted by a guard.]
My fiendish pride shall soon

Enjoy a rich repast. I've labored long
To snare my foe; now my reward is come.
Rise up! thou spirit of vengeance, t'enjoy
Thy triumph. See the miscreant tremble!

That's longing to retaliate with death.-[ Smith placed upon the block.]

POWHATTAN.-[Addressing him.]

Hadst thou opposed me with the honor'd war

A savage loves, I would have spared thy life.
What sayst thou to thy fate? Art thou prepared?

SMITH.

If in my warfare I have been less arch

Than thy insidious band, by willing death
I'll show, that I am not less brave, than great
Powhattan, who alone would dare a host.
I've tried the fortune of the field, and found
Myself thy captive. Now I wait thy doom.

[Powhatlan orders the clubs to be brought.] POCAHONTAS.

My father! O my father! Stay thy hand;
Can pleasure dwell within the heart that's fill'd
With bitterness like thine own? Fain would I
Become the sacrifice, and save his life.

Is thy decree forever fixed? Hear me,

O, my father! For thy daughter's sake, O! spare
His life.

POCAHONTAS.-[ Rushing before him.]

Stay thine avenging arm!

Is there no mercy in thy bosom? Nought but dire
Revenge ?-Thy bravery is but madness, wrought
Too high for e'en a savage heart to bear.
But from the captive's eye there beams a look
Of heavenly resignation, braver far

Than all the haughty frowns that rest on thy
Revengeful brow. And as the sun outshines
The distant stars, so now the victim's heart
Is braver than the murderer's hand.

[Addressing herself to Capt. Smith]-Is there
Within thy power, no means to reconcile
My father, and preserve thy life?

This gentleman is happily arrived ;

My mind presumes, for his own good, and yours."

It was on one of those bright mornings of Spring, when nature is newly clad in her resplendent beauties, and the glow of animation in the world of matter sends abroad its halo, and wakes to life and action the empire of mind, that I left the beautiful village of

S

to return, after a three weeks' absence, to my "Alma Mater." The bustle of the stage-house was gladly forgotten,-and once more I inhaled the mountain air, pure as if an angel of love had, with the wand of Heaven, driven pollution from earth, and spirits of peace had wafted their balmy breezes up the broad, and beautiful and far-famed vales of the bright land of the Jersies.

Among our fellow-passengers there was one gentleman, distinctly marked by his noble and commanding mien, in whose appearance there was something singularly interesting and attractive. His manners were the most dignified and graceful-his language the purest and most exalted, while his dark penetrating eye carried in its glance a look of mystery and a soul of energy. As our conversation na

turally turned upon the various objects of a handsome country and a morning scene, he would occasionally break forth in the rich and studied style of the Novelist, evincing the highest powers of description-a soul warm and vivid, subject to a lively imagination, and perhaps to a fevered excitement. But there were occasional spells in his remarks, and he would now sit as if unconscious of all around, with his dark eye fixed, and every feature unmoved,--then again would start up-look quick about, and go on in a strain, which was indeed that music to me the most enchanting--the music of the imaginative orator. I observed every movement--heard every account, and should have loved and admired to the extreme, were it not for that fearful eye, which now glowing with energy and life, and darting the now fixed-then rapid, changing glance, carried to my bosom a kind of revolting terror.

A day had passed with all its changes of passengers and scenes, and I was sitting with my intelligent companion on the promenade deck of the "North American," now launched upon the swelling bosom of the broad and beautiful Hudson. Like happy spirits, the mists of the morning were floating away, and the spires of the proud City of Commerce were receding in distance, while the towering Highlands gradually arose to view, distinctly arrayed in all their wild magnificence and grandeur. The picture of the scene is still fresh on my memory, and the proud intellect of my associate seemed to exult in the feeling and enthusiasm of poetry.

'What,' he exclaimed, is like the intoxication which enwraps the soul, and starts to life its latent energies--when the eye gazes upon the distant mountain and the silent landscape,-when the bosom of earth is spread out, in its varied loveliness, beneath the brooding wings of the Universal Spirit of Heaven! It is like the rousing